Planet Of Paladins
by Red Witch
Summary: Pam and Krieger go to a video game convention.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters is off playing a video game. Just some madness inspired by real life news. **

**Planet Of Paladins **

"Where the hell **is** everybody?" Cyril walked around the Figgis Agency.

Ray was playing checkers with Ron in the bullpen. "Lana took the day off because of some kind of school thing with AJ," Ray explained. "Pam and Krieger took off to a gaming convention that's being held downtown. And Cheryl's just off on another one of her little trips."

Cyril folded his arms. "She's passed out from too many groovy bears on top of the copier again, isn't she?"

Ray shook his head. "Absinthe and LSD strips in Ms. Archer's office. She wanted to change things up."

"If she wanted to do **that,** she'd do some work around here!" Cyril snapped. "Why are **you** here?"

"Honestly I couldn't think of a good excuse," Ray admitted.

"I was talking to Ron," Cyril pointed.

Ron shrugged. "I couldn't think of a good excuse either."

"Seriously?" Cyril asked.

Ron sighed. "I didn't feel like sitting around the house. Especially with an angry ocelot and God knows what Krieger has running around there. I'm saving my money so the track is out. Didn't feel like mall walking because that place is practically a ghost town. And most of the friends I've made out here are either pissed at my wife or dead."

"What about those guys you used to go to the park with?" Ray asked.

"What about the part where I said _or dead _are you **confused **by?" Ron asked.

"What happened?" Cyril asked.

Ron explained. "Three heart attacks, two strokes, a botched heart operation, two instances of lung cancer, a case of pneumonia, and one was in a car accident. Little life lesson, never play chicken with an eighteen-wheeler in a Volvo."

"I will try to remember that one," Cyril blinked.

Ron went on. "One guy moved to Florida to live with his family. Another guy moved to Cleveland to live with **his** family. And another guy moved to Encino to be with his family. They're not dead but odds are they wish they were. I've met some members of their families."

"That bad huh?" Ray asked.

"Oh yeah," Ron nodded. "Another guy decided to go parachuting on his 85th birthday and his parachute malfunctioned. To be fair the guy's pacemaker also malfunctioned just as he jumped out so it could have gone either way…"

"Oh my," Ray gasped.

"You think that's something?" Ron said. "The other day I went to a funeral of a pal of mine that was also in the car business. Knew him for years. He moved to California a while back and we hung out once or twice. He fell down backwards on some steps in a church. Cracked his skull and was dead within a few weeks."

"That's terrible," Ray said.

"Here's the really terrible part," Ron said. "There was a working stairlift on the stairs. He didn't want to take it because of pride. The lesson here, if you're in your upper 80's and you have a choice between walking up some stairs or riding in a stairlift. Take the damn stairlift!"

"Words to live by," Ray remarked.

"That's a lot of deaths," Cyril remarked.

"Yeah if it wasn't for funerals, I'd have no social life at all," Ron admitted.

"So other than the guys that moved away there's nobody left?" Ray asked.

"Just Bill, Dave and maybe Frank," Ron said.

"What about Frank?" Cyril asked.

"Depends on if he gets parole early," Ron admitted.

"Oh," Cyril blinked.

"The sad truth is," Ron groaned. "You lunatics are the only friends I have out here."

"Speaking of friends that are **out there**," Cyril groaned. "What kind of gaming convention did Pam and Krieger go to?"

"The annual Snow Storm Gaming Convention," Ray said.

"You didn't go?" Ron asked.

"I'm not as big into video games as those two are," Ray said. "Apparently there's this tournament where Krieger and Pam are competing."

"For how much?" Cyril asked.

"Twenty grand," Ray said.

"_Twenty thousand dollars_ for just playing **video games?"** Ron gasped. "I was definitely born in the wrong era."

"There's lots of competitions at this convention," Ray said. "As well as they're showcasing their new products and company platform."

"Snow Storm…" Cyril realized something. "Isn't that the company that has that role-playing game? Planet of Paladins?"

"That's the one," Ray said.

"And being investigated by the FCC?" Cyril asked. "As well as losing a lot of money?"

"Same," Ray sighed. He looked at the clock on the wall. "Turn the TV on. The tournament will be on soon. We might see Pam and Krieger."

"On TV?" Ron asked.

"Turn on ESPN 3," Ray said.

"A sports channel is televising a **video game competition?"** Ron was stunned. "Since when are _video games_ considered **sports?"**

"Video games are huge business now," Cyril shrugged as he turned on the TV. "Sometimes I think I should try a tournament myself. I'm pretty good at Warcraft."

"Video games are sports now," Ron shook his head. "What a world we live in."

"Hey look!" Ray pointed. "It's Pam and Krieger! They're on TV!"

An African American male reporter was with Pam and Krieger. Pam and Krieger were both wearing medieval costumes. "This is Mike Mackey at the Planet of Paladins Amateur Semi Finals West Coast Division," The reporter spoke. "Yes folks. This is a thing. And with me is the team from the double's division, Team Kick-Ass. Pam Poovey and Al Krieger. So, it's not just white kids that do this, right?"

"Nope," Krieger said cheerfully. "A lot of adults do this too. A lot of adults."

"Man, this is cool!" Pam said. "Mike, I recognize you from the days you played for the Minnesota Vikings! I can't believe you're here."

"Neither can I," Mike sighed. "I'm surprised you recognize me. I showed some kids a football and they had no idea what it was. They thought it was a weapon of some kind."

"Eh there's always a few Clueless Cyldes at these things," Pam waved. "Hey everybody! I want to give a shout out to my buddies at the Figgis Agency! Hey guys! I'm on TV!"

Mike was stunned. "You people actually **work**? With **real jobs**?"

"I know," Pam nodded. "I can't believe it sometimes myself."

"I'm a scientist," Krieger explained. "It's fun to get out of the lab sometimes and goof around."

"I work as a private investigator slash driver slash Human Resources Manager," Pam said.

"Wow," Mike said. "That kind of bursts the stereotype of player just living at their parents' house."

"Oh no," Pam shook her head. "We live in our friend's mansion at Beverly Hills."

Mike did a double take. _"Seriously?"_

"Well she gets drunk and high a lot," Krieger explained. "Someone has to make sure she doesn't choke in her own vomit."

"That pays way more than you think," Pam nodded.

"Okay…" Mike blinked. "Uh tell us more about your game. Or strategy. Or whatever it is you people do."

"Let me show you," Krieger took out a large computer pad and showed the audience. "These are our characters. As you can see mine is an Atlantean Wizard. Half fish, half human hybrid. Perfect for underwater attacks. But can also fight on land. Because you know? He's magic."

"Sounds reasonable," Mike remarked.

"And I'm a rock warrior," Pam showed the other one avatar which looked surprisingly familiar. "With really blue eyes. I'm super tough and durable. The only complaint I have about my avatar is that nobody really wants to just talk to me. Most people as soon as they see my character, they attack me right away. Nobody wants to stop and chit chat. Or flirt."

"Pam you're a rock warrior," Krieger told her.

"In a dress!" Pam snapped.

"Right," Krieger said sarcastically. "Those shoulder spikes just scream femininity."

"Basically, our goal is to smash and destroy everything in our path to get the treasure," Pam said. "Which you have to admit works surprisingly well in real life too."

"Okay I think I get this now," Mike said. "This is pretty interesting. Still confused on why this is considered a sport. But I get why this is a thing."

"One more thing Mike," Pam said. "A quick shout out to my sister. Hey Edie! You know that **one thing** you said that you would do someday? And that I could **never **do? Watch **this!"**

She then passionately kissed Mike on the lips. Pam took the microphone. "Just kissed a Minnesota Viking player! Knocked **that** off the bucket list! Poovey out!" She dropped the mike.

Krieger grabbed the microphone. "By the way, if you're looking for someone, or something! Call the Figgis Agency! If you don't have a clue, don't worry. You're not alone! Remember the name! The Figgis Agency!" He handed the microphone to Mike.

Mike looked shell shocked. "This is a very confused Mike Mackey signing out…"

"Look at that," Ray said. "We got some free advertising!"

Cyril groaned. "Something tells me we are going to pay for that in the long run."

"I am still confused on why this is considered a sport," Ron blinked as he watched the screens. "All everyone is doing is pushing buttons. They are literally sitting around pushing buttons. Since when is **that** a sport?"

"It is on the Jetsons," Ray shrugged.

Mike was trying to describe what was going on. "Okay that dude is pushing some buttons. That other dude is pushing more buttons. That lady is also pushing buttons…What? Oh, I have to describe what's going **on screen**! Okay that makes much more sense."

Mike blinked. "I take that back. There's a bunch of weird freaky creatures running around. Lots of lights and flashes. The weird freaky monsters are smashing each other. Oh, I recognize those two monsters! It's Pam and the other guy. They're smashing a lot of other monsters and creating a lot of lights."

Just then all the screens in the room went black. A cry of alarm and anger rose up from the crowd. "And now everything went dark. Is that **supposed **to happen?" Mike asked.

"I don't think so…" Cyril blinked.

Mike listened in on his headset. "Folks I'm hearing some news…Apparently there's some kind of virus…That has not only infected these computers here…But the entire Planet of Paladins online gaming system. Planet of Paladins has just gone dark!"

"This is one of the reasons why I prefer Nintendo," Ray admitted.

"What does **that** mean?" Ron asked.

"It means the entire game all over the world has been shut down," Cyril explained. "And the tournament is probably off."

"How the hell did **that** happen?" Ray asked.

"There's something happening on the screens!" Mike reported. "Something is happening!"

"Hut! Hut! What? What?"

"Oh God no…" Cyril's face went pale as he recognized the familiar tune.

_"Hut! Hut!"_ The familiar pixilated pirate danced around on all the screens. _"What? What?" _

"Oh, dear God no…" Cyril groaned as he saw the familiar pirate dance around the screens. "Not that! Anything but **that!"**

"Not that stupid pirate virus again!" Ray groaned.

"Wait, you **know** about that pirate thing?" Ron pointed. "How…?"

"Don't ask," Ray groaned.

"I am **never **going to be free of that horrible mistake," Cyril grumbled under his breath.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Letting those two idiots run free is a horrible mistake," Cyril covered.

"I agree," Ron nodded.

"I can't believe that virus in in there!" Pam hissed at Krieger.

"It's a **virus** Pam!" Krieger snapped. "Computer viruses go everywhere and infect everything! It's implied in the name! VIRUS!"

"How was I supposed to know **this** was going to happen?" Pam snapped. "Technically these avatars are on your account!"

"I told you to not add those extra mods!" Krieger snapped. Then he realized he was on TV. "Because you lost them. Due to that horrible virus that **someone else** is responsible for."

Pam got the idea. "Some hacker got into the system! Way to go _**geniuses **_at Snow Storm!"

"YES!" Krieger said. "Snow Storm promised us safe gaming! PROMISE NOT KEPT!"

"I thought you said this would never happen again!" Someone shouted.

"Again?" Ron asked.

"Apparently a lot of people have been hacking into this game," Cyril explained.

"We're ruined! Ruined because of your incompetence!" A man leading a group of men and women wearing suits and ties cornered a small group of men wearing casual clothes.

"Uh oh," Cyril said. "I recognize the guys they're shouting at. Those are Harry Huffington and Bert Wibble the founders of Planet of Paladins and Snow Storm. They've been having a lot of trouble keeping their company afloat."

"Looks like they are going to have more," Ray groaned.

"I told you we would need the swords!" A woman in a pantsuit took one out. The others in ties and suits took out swords. "GET THEM!"

"Who are those guys?" Ron asked. "The ones with the swords."

"The shareholders," Cyril sighed.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHH!" The company founders ran for their lives from the shareholders.

"Something tells me this is going to be the last Planet of Paladins tournament," Ray groaned. "Ever."

"MY CHARACTERS ARE GONE!" A tall thin teen screamed. "I want satisfaction!"

"RIOT!" Another thin teen screamed.

"Yeah let's riot!" Pam whooped. Soon the entire floor was full of people fighting.

"Oh my…" Ron's eyes widened.

"A whole pack of costumed gamers filled to the brim with testosterone and frustration," Ray groaned. "This is going to get ugly!"

"Don't forget the estrogen!" Ron pointed.

"AHHHHH!" Pam body slammed a thin gaming make down on the floor. Then she got up and started beating up another man dressed as an orc.

"HEY! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK FOR ME AND MY MOM TO MAKE THIS COSTUME?" The man screamed. "OWWW!"

SWWWINNG!

A woman with a real sword dressed as an elf was chasing some male players. "GAMING EQUALITY NOW SUCKERS!" She screamed as she cut off a fake tail.

"Who brings a real sword to a gaming convention?" Krieger shouted as he fought a weak looking gamer.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

"Well, besides the shareholders," Krieger noticed the game founders being chased around.

"This sport is way too violent for me!" Mike shouted amid the chaos. "And I'm an ex-football player!"

"And here comes the riot squad," Cyril sighed as several police officers descended on the floor.

"So," Ray sighed. "We're now going to be responsible for **another **company going bankrupt."

"Looks like," Cyril groaned.

"Yet **another** brawl our agency is involved in," Ray rolled his eyes. "On television no less."

"I'll go get the bail money," Cyril sighed as he left the room.

Ron groaned. "What does it say about me when video game lives are more interesting than mine?"


End file.
